“I wanted to hear them again every night,” Michael whispered. “I thought that as long as you kept saying them, you still believed in us.”
Tears streamed down my face.
“Michael, I would have loved you even if we could never have children. But you took away my right to know the truth.”
He reached toward me.
“I know. And I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me.”
I didn’t forgive him immediately.
Over the following months, I received treatment for the cyst. Michael finally underwent further testing, which confirmed that his earlier illness had significantly affected his fertility.
We also started marriage counseling.
For the first time, we learned to talk without hiding the truth.
But the biggest change was still ahead.
One day, my sister Jennifer invited us to a community gathering where we met an eight-year-old girl named Lily.
She sat beside me and asked:
“Do you have any children?”
“No, sweetheart.”
“Would you like one?”